Men are From Mars...
Bob works with three other engineers and designers. They get along really well. They're incredibly busy, but even so, they get a chance to talk seeing as they are all in the same office.
By the end of the two hours we were talking about our kids. One of the women told how her daughter came home from high school and said that a guy at school had asked her to give him a blow job and she thought this was really nice.
Bob told the guys at work about how he had found fire ant nests on the side of our house. Fire ants are nasty biting, stinging critters. Highly aggressive insects that come boiling out of the nest and up your shoes and grab onto your skin with their mouth pincers and then curl up and sting you with their abdominal stingers. All of the guys had remedies for fire ant infestations.
The woman asked her daughter why she thought it was nice. The daughter explained that the guy was thoughtful because he didn't want her to get pregnant. (The guy and the daughter are not dating.) The mother sat down and explained why a sixteen-year-old boy asking for a blow job may not be behaving altruistically, and about blow jobs and stds. And we shuddered and commiserated about this strange world we were trying to prepare our children for. By the time I left lunch I knew how many children each woman had and a significant amount about her present circumstances.
One of the guys said that what he liked to do is take a burnz-a-matic torch and fire it up and lay it sideways so that the flame is parallel to the ground, about an eighth to a quarter of an inch above the opening of the nest. The ants will come boiling out and as each one comes out it will fry and pop and get blown away by the torch. This really doesn't eliminate the problem of course, because it doesn't get the queen, but it's cool as hell.
What's so-and-so's wife's name? I asked my husband. He hadn't a clue. But the fire ant problem is eradicated.